


Hourly joys be still upon you

by Dhillarearen



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: (but everyone has fun), (duh), Awkward Sex, Explicit Consent, F/M, Fluff, Post-Oathbringer, Wedding Night, go check theirs out as well!!, someone beat me to the wedding night fic but that's the opposite of a problem???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 11:49:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12958569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dhillarearen/pseuds/Dhillarearen
Summary: A wedding night between a Prince and a Lightweaver; or, a celebration of Shallan and of Adolin that has been much anticipated.





	Hourly joys be still upon you

 ’Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

 

- _The Tempest,_ Act II Scene 1

 

* * *

 

 

Shallan was happy to let Adolin guide her with an arm around her waist, through corridors striped, excitingly, with different strata than the ones leading to her old room in Sebarial’s section. She had let herself get tipsy from the wine, wanting to feel warm and well-fed and happy as she left the feast, though with Adolin beside her she could hardly help feeling the last. It was strange to think of herself as a married woman. She didn’t feel any different than she had before—and she was an expert in feeling like a different person.

Adolin was tipsy, too, laughing into her hair and pulling her close as they walked. He had not stopped grinning for the entirety of the wedding celebration. Whenever he looked at her she saw such love radiating back at her, such unstoppered joy, that she felt she didn’t need Stormlight to start glowing.

Shallan had left her wedding headdress with a servant during the third course of the feast so she could lean her head on Adolin’s shoulder. He had not worn his uniform to his wedding, like his father had to his own. Gilded embroidery scratched against her cheek, but she didn’t mind. The fashionable cut of his suit emphasized the broadness of Adolin’s shoulders and the narrowness of his waist, and the color brought out the bronze tones in his skin. He always looked handsome. Today, Shallan had not been able to stop staring.

The strata curved, and Shallan woke from her daydream and tugged at Adolin’s arm. He slowed and turned towards her. 

“We’re not going to your room?”

“They gave us another,” said Adolin, voice going soft on the _us._ “My stepmother said something about there not being enough room for a brightlady in a soldier’s chambers, though I don’t know what she was talking about. I had a lot more space than most. My father’s son and all that.”

“Maybe they wanted us far away so we wouldn’t keep them up at night,” Shallan said, and had the pleasure of watching Adolin turn pink. He cleared his throat and sped up again, though his hold remained as tender as ever. Shallan pressed a hand to her stomach, where she could feel a different type of excitement wake and start to flutter. There was one logical conclusion to tonight’s festivities, and Shallan was looking forward to it.

The room Adolin stopped at had a door, which underlined Shallan’s comment about the noise. She caught Adolin’s eye and smirked. He blushed again but took the time to press her against it and kiss her slow and sweet, endless until Shallan fumbled for the doorknob and broke away to chase him inside.

She gasped once she got inside. “Oh, they gave us a real bed!” The frame had clearly been Soulcast, and the coverlet was fraying along one edge, but it was miles ahead of a heap of blankets on the floor. She ran over to it and threw herself on the mattress, bouncing. When she looked over at Adolin she saw that he had closed the door and was leaning against it, his head cocked, watching her and smiling. A small bowl of spheres, nearly dun, were on a shelf beside him, along with an oil lamp. The yellow light made his gemstone buttons shine.

“Now I know what Renarin and Aunt Navani were conspiring about,” he said. Shallan leapt up and came back over to him, taking his hand and pressing it against her cheek. 

“Come to bed,” she breathed.

Adolin stroked his thumb across her cheekbone and looked into her eyes. “Shallan, I want you to know that I don’t expect anything out of tonight. If you’d rather we just went to sleep, I can do that. Storms, if you’d rather I slept on the floor, I’ll call a servant for blankets right now.”

Fear spiked up Shallan’s throat, bitter as ice. After all this, did he not want her? _No,_ said Radiant. _Look at the facts._ Adolin had made it clear, time and again, that he loved her and was attracted her. This was him being honorable. Silly man.

Shallan turned her head and kissed the center of Adolin’s palm. She felt him go very still. “I was hoping we’d do something else,” she said. She met Adolin’s gaze through her eyelashes and kissed his palm again. He caught his breath.

Still, he didn’t kiss her. “The times that I’ve done this, the other person has been more experienced than I was or we were both at the same level. I’m not sure how to…” he trailed off with a curse. His pulse was racing in the wrist Shallan was holding. Shallan had never seen him at such a loss for words.

“Adolin,” she said, delight growing as she put together her suspicions, “are you _nervous?_ ”

He shifted his weight, embarrassed. “I don’t want you to have a bad time,” he said weakly. “That wouldn’t make me a very good husband, would it?”

Husband. And she was his wife. Shallan rose up onto her tiptoes and crossed the space between them herself, kissing Adolin until he cupped his other hand around the back of her head and drew her closer. She fancied she could feel his heartbeat in his lips, too, opening against hers, pushing forward and then yielding in a rhythm she was learning to anticipate. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” Shallan teased, and felt Adolin’s chest rumble as he chuckled. The realization that they were this close and there were still clothes between them made her stop and pull back enough to rest her head in the crook of his neck. “Now, are you going to help me with these?” she asked, taking one of the buttons of his suit jacket between her fingers and toying with it. Adolin sagged against the wall for a moment and then straightened up to his full height, suddenly thrumming with energy.

“Storms yes,” he said, his voice rough in a way that made Shallan warm all over. He pressed one more hard kiss to her mouth and then started working his way down the row of buttons with military efficiency. Shallan leaned against him, letting herself give into relief for the scarce moments it took him. She wanted this, yes, and she had some idea how to proceed, but as she had recently learned there was a big difference between learning about a thing and actually doing that thing. She was _trying_ to be herself around Adolin. Was it wrong to steal some of Veil’s confidence for this?

_Careful,_ said Veil. _It’s_ you _he loves, remember._

_That is, after all, why you chose him,_ said Radiant.

Adolin had divested himself of his jacket, lifting Shallan’s face gently off his chest to do so, and maneuvered the two of them one step closer to the bed. “Are you still doing all right in there?”

“Perfect,” Shallan said, taking another step and feeling a gratified spark in her belly when she saw how easily Adolin followed.Radiant and Veil hummed in approval and fell silent.

“Yes, you are,” said Adolin, eyes crinkling, and swooped in for another kiss. At this rate it would be morning before they got to the point of this all, but Shallan was having trouble getting annoyed when the delays were this pleasant. Still, her impatience was mounting, so she strode firmly—as firmly as she could, while backwards—across the remaining distance and sat down on the edge of the bed, kicking off her slippers, her hand going to the fastenings of her wedding costume. 

They were difficult to work without a mirror. Or a helper. After a moment of hesitation, she unbuttoned the end of her safesleeve and slipped her safehand out, peeling off the thin glove underneath. Even with her experiment in Kholinar, she hadn’t gone this far. Adolin’s eyes went to her exposed hand immediately.

Shallan forced herself not to stuff her safehand under her skirts. It felt strange to bare it on purpose, but also thrilling. The air on the backs of her fingers made the hair on her arms and neck stand up. With heavy steps Adolin came up to her and sat on the bed. To her _left._ He reached out.   


“May I?”

“Please,” Shallan said, and with a heady sense of daring put her safehand into his hand herself. Adolin’s fingers curled around hers. He stroked the back of it, making Shallan shiver—how could she be more sensitive on that hand?—and then brought her safehand to his lips.

“Shallan,” he said. His gaze burned her.“I would like us both to get out of these clothes, if you don’t mind.”

“Are you going to make your wife beg,” Shallan said. Only barely did she keep from stuttering. She saw the way the word _wife_ settled over Adolin, subtly rearranging his limbs so he was oriented more towards her, and with a great deal more intent. He helped her draw her gown over her head, taking care not to rip it, and she returned the favor for his shirt and trousers (and boots—she got caught a moment trying to pull his pants off before his boots, and Adolin, who had done the same, shook his head and declared they couldn’t be blamed after that excellent wine. It made Shallan feel less foolish.). 

That left them both in their underthings, staring at each other. _This is ridiculous,_ Shallan thought, and before she could think about it she ducked out of her shift as well. When she came out from under the folds of fabric she saw that Adolin’s mouth had gone slack.

_He looks like a stunned chicken,_ Veil grumbled.

_Hush,_ said Radiant.

_I think he looks good,_ Shallan told them, letting her eyes rake over Adolin’s body. A few gropes through clothing, and her common sense, had told her that he was well-muscled, but having it all spread out in front of her made her want to burn a prayer of thanks to the Almighty. There was so much _skin,_ unbroken by the lines of clothing, smooth and gleaming slightly in the lamplight. Shallan reached out to touch, tracing the line of an old scar on his bicep. Adolin turned more fully towards her and his abdomen flexed. Shallan nearly swooned.

_Focus. We’ve a goal to reach tonight._

Adolin was unabashedly pleased at her oogling. He flexed his bicep under her hand. Shallan’s eyes widened as it forced her fingers apart, and Adolin moved closer so they were thigh-to-thigh. “Brightlady,” he said, eyes dancing, nodding towards the expanse of the mattress behind her.

“Brightlord,” she responded, and then, impulsively, flopped backwards with the ugliest groan she could muster. “Ughh. I’m tired. Maybe I will go to sleep, and leave you here.”

“I wouldn’t stop you if you did.”

Shallan cracked an eyelid open. “You’re supposed to argue with me.”

“I’m not going to.” Adolin was suddenly serious. “If you ever decide, at any point during tonight—or after, at any time, no matter what—that you don’t want to proceed, tell me and I’ll stop. No questions asked. Shallan, you—“ he touched her ankle where it was hanging off the edge of the bed. “It worries me that you didn’t expect that already,” he confessed.

Shallan cursed herself and struggled to sit up, drawing her legs in and crossing them. _Oh, Adolin. Dear, sweet Adolin._ “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she said. “You said you wanted me to have a good time? Well I want _you_ to have a good time, and nobody wants to give useful information to an unmarried brightlady—the one who could use this kind of information the _most._ I…” she covered her face. Storms, she was ruining this already. “Adolin, we’re married. I’m naked. _Touch me._ I want you to.”

Her face was hot. She was afraid to see what Adolin’s reaction was. The mattress creaked and dipped, and Shallan felt the disturbance in the air a moment before Adolin laid his hands on her shoulders. His hands were warm, _so_ warm, and so big. A prince’s hands. A Shardbearer’s hands. _Adolin’s_ hands, which had held her own. She lifted her head.

“I never thought I’d get this far,” Adolin said. “And no, before you say it, I didn’t mean _in bed._ I meant I never truly thought I’d get to marry. Oh, I knew I’d have to, for the sake of the house, for Kholinar—“ he broke off, and the destruction of the city lay between them, sharp with its freshness, heavy with grief. Adolin set his jaw and continued. “But there was always some reason it didn’t work out, and I thought, I must not…that must not be what’s going to happen, for me. And then you appeared, and you and your hair and your frankness and your mind _,_ Shallan, and the way you look in trousers…” he stopped himself with visible effort. Shallan was disappointed; she had liked being complimented. “I love you, Shallan, and I’m going to love you whatever happens. I promise.”

“I have to kiss you for that,” Shallan said, hearing her voice wobble. She pulled him to her and he went willingly, following her down onto the bed and supporting himself over her as she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him for all she was worth. Her hair bunched uncomfortably under her head, but she didn’t care, because Adolin had just dropped his mouth to her neck and _Stormfather,_ that felt good.

Unfortunately, he didn’t stay. Adolin kissed the swoop of her collarbone, eyes flicking up to meet hers, laid a careful kiss on the side of her breast. 

_Finally,_ Shallan thought. She tugged at Adolin’s shoulders to get him to hurry up. He grinned and got to work.

That _did_ feel nice. Adolin used the edge of his teeth every now and again, and it made the bottom of Shallan’s stomach jolt. But the book Shallan had snuck from Navani’s library (no, she didn’t want to think too hard about it) had promised mind-numbing arousal from this specific activity, and…it was nice, but it wasn’t _more_ than nice. Mostly, it made Shallan frustrated that she wasn’t getting more. She rubbed her thighs together and clenched her teeth. Should she pretend? What if she hurt Adolin’s feelings?

_No. Make him work for it,_ Radiant said, and for once she and Veil were in perfect agreement. Shallan sighed and hauled Adolin up by his hair.

“Um,” she said, her tongue wooden. She squirmed. Luckily Adolin caught on and gave a sheepish nod. He thought for a moment.

“I have a better idea,” he said, and scooted down to bury his face between her thighs.

This they had done before, once, three days ago, when they had been kissing in Shallan’s room. Adolin had clutched the side of her havah and asked the question in a desperate murmur, and at Shallan’s acquiescence he had gotten down on his knees for her on the floor there as he was getting down on his knees on the mattress for her now.It was more familiar than full nudity, or the rest. More not as new than familiar, to be truthful, but enough to allow Shallan a point of reference.Shallan sighed again, this time in contentment, and arched her back. _This_ was what she needed. Adolin worked her over with broad, smooth strokes, and then pressed in and flicked his tongue rapidly. Shallan stifled a moan in the crook of her elbow.

Like she had three days ago, she laid her hands, _both_ hands, on Adolin’s head—but this time, there was no safesleeve between them. If she strained she could see her safehand tangling in the yellow-and-black strands of Adolin’s hair. The sight made her tighten her grip. Adolin groaned.

“Storms,” Shallan said. “Oh, storms.” She could feel that she was wet now, not just from Adolin’s spit. She bent her legs and dug her heels into the mattress. Adolin stroked his palm up her inner thigh and she let that leg fall open, an invitation. When Adolin slid the first finger into her she nearly sobbed.

“Aren’t you supposed to get something out of this as well,” she gasped, clenching. Adolin mumbled something she couldn’t hear and twisted his fingers, two of them now, sucking hard, and Shallan’s hips jerked and writhed as she came apart.Before she had come down completely she yanked Adolin’s hair again and crashed their mouths together. It was odd, tasting herself on his tongue, but it made her throb all over again.

This time, she felt a hardness rubbing against her thigh. It was Adolin, she realized; the thought made her giddy. Had that happened because of what he’d just done? Was that part of this, becoming excited by giving somebody else pleasure? She’d never thought of it that way. Curious, she cupped the hardness and pulled up in a firm stroke. Adolin made a choking noise and collapsed his entire weight down, knocking the wind out of her.

“Oof,” she said in surprise.

“Sorry,” said Adolin, getting his knees under him. His face was flushed. Shallan stroked up his length again and decided that it must be a part of it, drawing pleasure from giving it, because she was experiencing it now. When she rubbed her palm in a circle over Adolin’s tip his eyelids fluttered and he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. 

_Focus. Goal._

“Now,” Shallan said, pushing at Adolin’s chest (and if she lingered there, it was only because he had such a _lovely_ chest) until he got the hint and rolled onto his back. Heart racing—from anticipation? Nervousness? _Want,_ maybe, or all three—she positioned herself with Adolin’s eager help and then, _at last,_ she was sinking slowly down onto his cock.  


And stopping.

“Almighty,” Shallan said. She held her breath and tried to take him deeper, but it started to hurt and she backed off. There were spheres by the door, she recalled. She breathed in the bit of Stormlight in them—and it healed the dregs of the wine still in her system, but didn’t allow her to move the direction she wanted.

“Well this is a pretty kettle of crem,” Shallan said, propping her hands on her hips. Panic threatened: could she not perform this most basic of functions? With a silent apology to Adolin, Shallan used some of Radiant’s coolheadedness to get herself under control. “I suppose this is a credit to the length of your, uh, Shardblade.”

Adolin snorted. “I’m flattered. And Maya’s great, but I’d much rather be in this position with you.” He started to lean up to kiss her, but the motion forced him deeper and Shallan yelped. Adolin lay back, stricken. 

“I don’t understand,” Shallan said, ignoring the protests of her thighs for holding her up without help. “This is precisely how bodies are _supposed_ to fit. What is going on?” She tried a third time, concentrating on relaxing her muscles. When the stinging got too sharp she made to push through it, and found herself caught about the hips in Adolin’s strong hands, held in place.

“Wait.” He lifted her up—Shallan shivered at the sensation of him sliding out of her, for when it wasn’t hurting it felt wonderful—and tipped them both over onto their sides, dragging down a pillow for their heads. Shallan’s hair got caught under his cheek, and then in both of their mouths. Adolin sneezed; some had gotten up his nose. Shallan giggled.

“Let’s try for round two,” Adolin said cheerfully. He hitched Shallan’s leg up and carefully, watching her face, slipped back inside her. He went only as far as he had the last time and stopped. “All right?”

Shallan nodded, closing her eyes and reaching around him to splay her hands in the small of his back. She’d thought about this, nights, wondered how it would feel. It was as if an itch between her legs that she’d never truly thought about had been soothed—but at the same time, made worse. She realized she wanted him to move.

“Okay. I’m ready.”   


“I don’t want to hurt you again,” said Adolin. “I can go like—“ Shallan clenched down, and Adolin’s voice stuttered to a halt. With aching slowness he eased out of her and then slid back inside, again only as deep as before. “I’m going to keep doing this, if that’s all right with you. Tell me if it— _Heralds—_ tell me if you need me to—“

“Are you sure this is going to be enough?” Shallan asked, a final spark of anxiety worming its way between her ribs. 

Adolin laughed, and the laugh became a moan. “Believe me, that’s _not_ going to be a problem. You ought to give yourself more credit, you’re very—storms!”

Heat was building once again in Shallan’s core, spreading outward and making her rock into Adolin’s thrusts. It was difficult to match his rhythm until she stopped thinking about it and let her body guide her. Her breasts felt heavy on her chest. She pinched one and found it felt better than it had earlier.

Adolin was moving his fingers at the place where they were joined, but he was increasingly clumsy as his thrusts built in momentum, and Shallan batted his hand away and took over. _Yes._ That was, _oh_ that was good.

“Shallan,” Adolin panted. He reached for her safehand, the one she wasn’t working furiously between her legs, and laced his fingers with hers. _“Shallan._ ”

“Yes?”

“I’m going to—oh, Jezrien, Kelek, Ishtar’s _soul, Shallan!”_ His hips drove forward, _almost_ too deep but not quite, and she could feel him spill within her, hot and strange but not unpleasant. He was a different kind of beautiful when he climaxed as he had been at the feast, different too as, she had noted, he was in his every day. His brows drew together, the spot between them creasing, and then all the tension bled out of him and his face became smooth, a fascination of bliss that Shallan touched to make sure it was real. There would never be a sculptor to carve someone in this moment—Shallan hoped—but if one did, she couldn’t have a better subject than Adolin.

Adolin drew out of her and Shallan whimpered at the loss, her wrist cramping as she moved it quicker. In a moment Adolin had replaced himself with his fingers, three now, and he crooked them until Shallan shook and swore and had to pull him away. Her head felt muzzy, her ears ringing in the sudden lack of the sound of skin-on-skin. Satisfaction unfurled from her belly and made her limbs sink into the mattress. She felt warm and happy and ready to sleep for an age.

Adolin studied his messy fingers and then, shrugging, stuck them in his mouth. Shallan wrinkled her nose at him.

“You act like you’ve never been in my mouth before,” Adolin said. He crossed his eyes at her and then both of them were laughing, arms around each other, laughter that turned into yawns once Adolin started.

“We should actually get in the bed before we fall asleep,” said Shallan, casting an eye over the wrinkled coverlet. “I don’t want to wake up in the morning half-frozen.”

“I’ll be your heating fabrial,” Adolin said lazily. He sat up and dragged the covers down from a corner, pausing to use them to stifle another yawn. “I wonder if they gave us any towels.”

 

Later, toweled dry and on the verge of dropping off, Shallan remembered someone. “You can come back now, Pattern,” she called, glancing up at the ceiling.  
Adolin’s arms stiffened around her. “Tell me he wasn’t here the whole time.”

“I gave him specific instructions not to be.”

“She did,” Pattern’s voice said from over by the window. He crept in under the edge of the frame and crossed the ceiling to buzz on the wall above the bed. “But you are very loud.”

Adolin turned his face into the pillow and groaned. Shallan was too contented to glare, but she tried to muster one for Pattern anyway. “I told you not to listen, either!”

“ _Listen_ and _overhear_ are not the same,” said Pattern smugly. “The guards at the end of the hallway told me this. They said, it didn’t matter if they _overheard_ the queen’s cousin giving the brightlady Radiant a good enough dicking to last until the next desolation, because—“

“ _Pattern!”_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sex is never perfect, and not everybody can get an entire dick in them their first try. The important thing is that you have fun, and stop if anything hurts in a way you haven't planned it to. Have fun, kiddos!
> 
> (They did get there by the 3rd time with some patience and lubricant, btw, so follow ur dreams)


End file.
